


It Started With A Cup Of Coffee

by MethodMom



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, F/F, I Don't Even Know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 04:01:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20923820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MethodMom/pseuds/MethodMom
Summary: an ABO one shot no one asked forORThe one where i turned a practice writing exercise of people watching at a coffee shop into Alpha Miranda meeting Omega Andy.🤷🏼♀️(No smut, don't get excited hahaha!)





	It Started With A Cup Of Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> This was a writing exercise that turned from people watching into whatever this is. I've never written anything ABO and I'm not sure how it happened today to be honest. So here is a non-beta'd practice piece into this genre.

Miranda sat peacefully, fingers running over the page of the book in front of her as if touching the words would help her absorb the peace the text was describing. Eyes wide open, she was mindful of the other patrons trickling in and out, but not letting their chaos interrupt the serenity she had found in her little corner of the coffee shop.

She had found this coffee shop by accident. New York was certainly not suffering for lack of coffee, along with the Starbucks on every corner block, there were also small mom and pop shops here and there. Even trucks that peddled specialized beverages lined up along the streets. New Yorkers didn’t suffer from lack of variety but there was one thing that her beautiful city was desperately in need of...Quiet.

While Miranda loved New York, loved the hustle and bustle of a city that never really slept (because let’s be honest, neither did she), loved the sheer availability of things; she did not love the crowds. Her position as Editor in chief of _Runway_ made it so that she was recognized any and everywhere she went. Unfamiliar bodies often pressed themselves into her space wanting their magazines autographed or taking pictures of her which inevitably ended up on page 6. Not many people knew that she suffered from mild cases of agoraphobia and claustrophobia courtesy of some childhood trauma. Miranda had perfected her ice queen persona and her signature glare out of necessity. She needed room to breathe and her position as Editor in Chief left her little to none.

She lifted her head and her eyes shifted to the barista who was calling out names and orders with laser focus. “Celia, here’s your two Splenda iced coffee. Gionvanni, tall pumpkin spice latte. Greg, got you coming up next.”

The editor put down her book and removed the chic black rimmed reading glasses that she was wearing. Her attention now fully on the young brunette flitting to and fro behind the counter.

“Jill, grande caramel macchiato.”

Pulling on the chain of the antique pocket watch she kept in her vest, she clicked open the cover and checked the time. She let her fingers linger over the delicate filigree of the cover for a moment and then, with a small sigh and even smaller smile Miranda slipped off her heels and pulled her feet up into what her twin daughters jokingly referred to as ‘criss-cross-applesauce’ position. It wasn’t easy in her current attire, but she did love the way Karl cut a suit.

She closed her eyes, trying to bring her attention back to her studies and away from the barista with the wide, welcoming smile. She took a few deep breaths and kept her focus on the way the warm, coffee and pastry scented air filed her lungs and teased her taste buds.

Sunday’s were her day. It was the day Miranda traveled to her little, off the beaten path, coffee shop and decompressed from a long and stressful week. It started that way anyway. Though lately, there was another reason she was so keen to come here. The reason had shiny brown hair and a smile that, instead of making her question motive, made her feel safe. That smile caused stirrings in her that she had long believed to be dormant. 

Taking another deep cleansing breath to refocus, she caught the scent of something other than coffee shop offerings. Something slightly sweet and fresh like jasmine on a crisp fall morning. The fragrance drew her attention like a hummingbird to nectar. Miranda opened her eyes and scented the air again, discretely seeking the source. She’d never smelled anything like it before. Innocent, alluring… unmated Omega? Couldn’t be. Omega’s were rare, unmated Omega’s even more so. Even still, she had to forcefully repress groan at the thought.

“Miranda, one no-foam skimmed latte. Extra shot. Room for milk.”

The editors head shot up and blue eyes locked onto brown as the brunette behind the counter sauntered over to deliver the coffee directly to her table. Miranda’s heart rate quickened, the smell of honeysuckle gradually getting stronger, as the barista approached her.

“I didn’t order that.”

“I know,” the brunette smiled. “I just thought you could use it. It kinda looked like you were falling asleep over here.”

“I was _trying_ to meditate,” the explanation coming out more harsh than she’d intended. Wanting, no needing, the young woman to stay Miranda tried again. “However, seeing as how you’ve interrupted my practice you may as well have a seat.”

“Uh, ok sure. Ally,” she yelled to the back of the shop at other woman in an apron, “I’m taking my break now!”

“Ok, Andy.”

“Andy? Short for something else?”

A light blush tinged her cheeks. “Andrea. My name is Andrea.”

“Andrea.” Miranda spoke the womans name aloud, her tongue caressing the vowels, drawing them out, causing her body temperature rise in response.

“Yes but everyone just calls me Andy,” she explained.

“I’m not everyone,” Miranda responded haughtily.

“Oh, I’m aware.”

Miranda could feel the baristas gaze roaming over her leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. Misunderstanding her comment Miranda snarked, “Ah, so, what is it then? You want an autograph?” The tone giving away her annoyance at the inconvenience.

“No. Nothing like that. It’s just, I wait on you every Sunday. And I thought, I dunno, that I’d say hello.” Andrea fumbled with her fingers; a nervous tick Miranda assumed by the way her scent changed. Definitely, Omega. Her mouth watered as she watched the young woman fidget.

“Andy, can you get the register?” Ally called from the storeroom.

“Sure thing!” Andrea turned to Miranda apologetically. “Looks like my break is over. Um, it was nice to finally meet you Miranda. See you next week?” The hopeful lilt of the question hung thick in the air between them.

“Yes,” Miranda confirmed. “Next week.”

“I’ll save your corner table for you so you aren’t interrupted,” a guilty grin grew on her face as she stood and went to man the register.

Miranda gathered her belongings, fighting her Alpha urge to follow the intoxicating scent and claim the woman as her own. Questions clouding her mind, her meditation long forgotten, Miranda wondered at the need she was suddenly feeling. She whimpered slightly as she stood. Confused, she looked down to see the uncomfortable bulge that had made an appearance in her slacks. _Oh god. _She needed to get home right away. She moved as quickly as she could, her handbag providing little in the way of coverage. She had to get out of here, away from the shop, away from Andrea and her heady Omega scent…at least until next week.


End file.
